The Consequence of Free Choice
by Sleepwalking Dreamer
Summary: It is amazing just how thin and tenuous the threads of destiny are. If there is but one small change in the fabric, then the entire tapestry is changed. And because of one simple bet, many, many things were changed
1. Prologue: Freedom of Choice

**The Consequence of Free Choice**

_By: Sleepwalking Dreamer_

DISCLAIMERS:

_The Iliad_ © Homer

_Troy _© Wolfgang Petersen and David Benioff

_Three Kingdoms: A Historical Novel _© Luo Guangzhong (translation credits go to Moss Roberts for the version used here)

_Beyond the Phantasm of Humanity _© Noelle Grace Ocana Pico

Princess Ren Ziyi and other related characters © Sleepwalking Dreamer

APOLOGIES AND EXPLANATIONS:

Regarding the accuracy employed herein, I will be the first to admit that they will not be accurate. For one, I am about to change a crucial decision that was made even before the events of _The Iliad_ took place. For another I may have to redirect certain events in the Chinese novel (or make them up) to aid in the flow of the story.

Also, I know that the stories and events in _Three Kingdoms_ take place at a later time in comparison to _The Iliad, _and, in an attempt to correct this, I have tried to set the events at an earlier time period, one that is closer to the time during which _The Iliad_ supposedly occurred. This would mean that I would have to place events roughly during the Shang Dynasty of China, which had reached its Golden Age at roughly the same time the events in _The Iliad _are reputed to have taken place. _Three Kingdoms_ is supposedly an account of the latter days of the Han Dynasty. What I have attempted to do, in order to reconcile the timelines, is to transfer a few events and machinations from _Three Kingdoms_ into the Shang Dynasty. I hope that people will forgive me for this.

Regarding the presence of women warriors, this was quite plausible, since Chinese history _does_ speak of the presence of many women who have chosen the life and path of the warrior. If I remember my history correctly, Fu Hao (posthumously Si Mu Xin), was not only a royal consort of Emperor Wu Ding (mentioned sometimes as the twenty-first, at other times, the twenty-second, emperor of the Shang), but was also a military general as well. Her tomb is the only Shang tomb found intact, containing valuable bronze and jade pieces. She was also found buried with weapons – objects traditionally associated with male burials. This, in addition to the oracle bones that specifically name Fu Hao as a general, point out the fact that women could, in Bronze Age China, be equals with males.

Regarding the use of silk, it must be said that silk was already in use by 3000 BC, having been discovered supposedly as early as 6000 BC by a Chinese Empress.

And finally, I am not quite sure if the martial arts were already prevalent during the Shang Dynasty, but I do know for certain that one of the modern-day tourist attractions in Henan (the province where Anyang, the site of the Capital of Yin, which was the capital of the Shang) is the Shaolin martial arts temple, located on Mount Song. Since Henan seems to have been a seat for the martial arts, I have thought it plausible that, if martial arts did exist in Shang times (and I think that they did, in some way or form), an Emperor would not have to look very far for masters who would be willing to indulge his daughter's thirst to learn how to fight.

Overall, I do hope that people will forgive me for making the choices that I did, and will enjoy my retelling, regardless of its faults and flaws.

TEASER:

It is amazing just how thin and tenuous the threads of destiny are. If there is but one small change in the fabric, then the entire tapestry is changed.

And because of one simple bet, many, many things have changed.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

To make it easier on the readers to imagine just whom I have in mind when writing this, I will give a short list of actors and actresses whom I have imagined could play the roles of various characters within the story. The major characters in _Troy_ will be represented by the actors who have played them, with one chief exception, and she is mentioned below. The list is as follows:

Oenone – Diane Kruger (I chose her to play Oenone instead, because I do not think any woman in the world could ever be beautiful enough to be Helen.)

Hecuba – Judi Dench (I chose her to play Hecuba because she is, firstly, of the right age to be mother to Eric Bana's Hector, and secondly, because she has such a powerful aura – one that befits someone who must play the Queen of Troy and Priam's wife. One only needs to see her in _Shakespeare in Love_ and other movies, besides, to see that aura.)

Imperial Princess Ren Ziyi – Karen Mok (She was one of the lead actresses in the Chinese movie _So Close._ I chose her to play the Imperial Princess because first of all, she has a face that is not quite beautiful, and Ren is not supposed to be stunningly beautiful. Secondly, she has an intense look about her sometimes that suits how a woman who seems to be carrying the weight of a dynasty on her shoulders should look.)

General Cao Bei – Ken Watanabe (I was impressed by his acting in _The Last Samurai¸_ and, frankly speaking, I really think that he deserved an award for his performance – he was, in my opinion, the real star of _The Last Samurai,_ not Tom Cruise. His portrayal of Katsumoto in that movie has become the basis for Cao Bei's character.)

Dong Shao – Masato Harada (I saw him as well in _The Last Samurai,_ and when I was conceptualizing Dong Shao, his character in the movie came to mind.)

Shang Zhu – Shin Koyamada (Again, I was influenced by _The Last Samurai. _I chose him to be Shang Zhu because he seems able to project a calm, unperturbed exterior, which he uses as a mask to hide a raging, violent temper.)

Ren Yi, or Emperor Ren – Shichinosuke Nakamura (His interpretation of Emperor Meiji in _The Last Samurai _was somewhat how I wanted to portray Ren Yi, though Ren Yi is certainly not as strong as Emperor Meiji. It is simply that Shichinosuke Nakamura's face had a softness to it that would befit a rather weak and childlike Emperor who was easily manipulated by someone older than he.)

As for the gods and other immortals, I think I will leave their images up to the reader. No one person can ever dictate how these entities look like, because it is up to us to paint their faces in our minds. I would not dare presume to force my image of them upon others who would see them as otherwise.

* * *

**PROLOGUE: Freedom of Choice**

He smiled as he looked upon the world that was spread out before him. It was quiet – almost too quiet. While he was not violent by nature, it was simply a _part of _his nature to induce change, though whether that change was violent or not tended to depend on just whom exactly he was working _with._

He tilted his head upwards, looking up to the clouds. "I hope that you're watching me, because I'll show you just what I can do," he said softly, before heading down to the field below, invisible and undetectable by the sheep that grazed on the tender grass he walked upon.

A soft breeze ruffled his hair, and he lifted a hand to smooth the strands down – not that it helped much, since his hair always refused to obey any attempt to tame it. Shading his eyes from the glare of the sun, he looked around, trying to find the shepherd, to whom these sheep belonged, knowing that the shepherd was the reason why he had come here in the first place.

It did not take him long to find him: the lad was sitting in the shade of a large tree, his back leaning against the trunk as he watched his flock with an alert eye.

Free Choice chuckled as he drew nearer, noting that the lad's eyes were not quite so focused, showing that his mind was clearly wandering elsewhere. Not so alert, then, he thought with a small shake of his head. He took his place beside the lad, resting his back against the trunk so that he could take some weight off his feet. A few moments later, three flashes of light appeared in front of the lad, who seemed to jerk so sharply he could have toppled off the rock that he was sitting on, had he not grabbed a low-hanging branch to steady himself.

He sighed quietly. And let the show begin, he thought wryly as he settled down to watch what would happen next.

* * *

Paris stared at the images of beauty and power before him, stunned into silence by their appearance. One moment he was sitting quietly on the edge of a wide field, watching the flocks that were under his care, and thinking of his wife Oenone, when suddenly, a bright flash of light blinded his sight momentarily, and when he recovered, he was gazing upon three goddesses, apparently fresh from the ambrosial halls of Olympus itself.

Directly in front of him stood Hera, wife of Zeus, and power radiated from her very form. This was she who was Queen on Olympus, she who ruled at Zeus' side. Among all the goddesses her sovereignty over the other gods was unquestionable, and when she made a decision none dared to oppose it save Zeus himself.

To his left was Aphrodite, born of the foam of the sea and the wind. It was said that none of the goddesses could equal her in beauty and in the arts of seduction, and it was for this reason that many, man and woman both, prayed to her that she may grant them success in courtship, or to draw love to them.

And to his right was high-hearted Athena, her gray eyes gleaming brightly with the fire of immortality. She was Zeus' favorite child, and she was most renowned for her intellect and courage in war. She favored brave and intelligent mortals, and she was wont to guide and protect her favorites on their quests and adventures.

Paris stood up, fully aware of how clumsy he seemed, and bowed to the three of them. "Great goddesses of Olympus," he murmured respectfully, "for what reason have you come to me, a humble shepherd? If you wish to set a task for me then I will do it, as best as I may, that I may please you and earn your favor."

"Rise Paris, son of Priam of Troy. We have indeed come to you to ask of you a favor, but your task cannot be accomplished if you cast your face to the ground."

It was Hera who had spoken. Blinking, Paris looked up at her, curiosity in his eyes. Had she called him a son of Priam? But Priam was King of Troy, powerful and revered! He could not be the son of so mighty a man.

Perhaps the goddesses could read his thoughts, for Athena spoke to him then. "You are indeed a son of Priam, Paris. Your wife and your foster parents know of this fact well." She waved her hand, and the leaves of the olive tree above his head shivered slightly, as if disturbed by a breeze, though there was no breeze. "But we did not come to you to speak of that."

Aphrodite spoke then, and Paris was dazzled not only by her beauty, but by her voice as well. "We came to you because we wished you to be the judge of an important matter."

Paris watched as a golden apple appeared in Aphrodite's hand, and continued to watch in stunned silence as the goddess held the apple out to him in her fair, slender hand.

The laughter-loving goddess smiled at him encouragingly. "Take it, Paris. It only right, I believe, that the judge should see the prize."

Trembling with awe and amazement, Paris took the apple from Aphrodite's outstretched hand. It had the same feel and weight in his hand as an ordinary apple, but it was a deep, rich gold all over. It was as if Hephaestus himself had chosen to forge this precious and beautiful thing out of the finest gold that the earth could give. He tilted it slightly, watching as the sunlight gleamed off the polished surface. As he did so, he encountered three words inscribed into the golden flesh of the apple: "For the fairest."

He looked up at the goddesses, confusion written clearly on his face. "What must I do?"

"You are judge who amongst the three of us is worthy of receiving that apple," Athena explained. She smiled at him then, her gray eyes gleaming like stars. "If you give it to me, I promise to cover you in glory and wealth in war. If you give me that apple, Paris, you will exceed all men in the battlefield, and none will be able to stand against you."

Paris' head spun with the possibilities. If he had Athena watching over him as he went to war, then he knew that none would be able to stand against him. The goddess would sweep all who dared oppose him. He could rule over the Aegean, and he would sweep the petty kings of the Achaeans aside.

Aphrodite laughed condescendingly. "And of what use is glory and wealth in war, if you will have no wife who is suitable to stand by your side?" As Paris turned to look at her, she gave him her most seductive smile. "Give me the apple, Paris, and you will have Helen for your bride. You have heard of Helen, have you not? She is a daughter of Zeus, and fair as an immortal goddess. Oenone is nothing in comparison to her."

Aphrodite's offer suddenly seemed far more appealing to him than Athena's. He had indeed heard of Helen, who was reputed to be the fairest of all the women in the world. A daughter of Zeus, she had been kidnapped once by the hero Theseus when she was but a little girl, intent on making her his bride when she grew up. But her brothers, Castor and Polydeuces, pursued him, and they won their sister back from Theseus.

"Your offers are nothing," Hera said then. "What is success in battle, and what is a beautiful wife, when one can have mastery of the world?" She extended her hand to Paris, a benign smile on her face. "If you give me the apple, Paris, I will give you power immeasurable. You will rule not just the Aegean, but all of Asia as well. Once you have the world, you will have your fill of glory in war and of beautiful women as well. Why settle for one or the other, when you could have both, and more besides?"

Paris' gaze leaped from one goddess to the other. He did not know whom to give the apple. They were all beautiful, and they could all claim to be the fairest of the goddesses.

Their promises whirled temptingly in his mind. Which did he want? Did he wish to be a great warrior? Did he wish to have the beauteous Helen for a wife? Or did he wish to become master of the whole world?

These were the choices that were laid before him. He closed his eyes, thinking. Which did he choose? To whom did he bestow the gift of the golden apple?

Whatever the case may have been, he had come to a decision, and he would not go against it. Inhaling, he looked upon the three goddesses before him, and said quietly: "I have made my choice."

So saying, he reached out, and placed the golden apple in the hand of the goddess he had chosen.

* * *

The Fates raised their heads disbelievingly, unable to comprehend what had just happened. This was not what they had expected to happen.

"Paris did not make the decision we thought he would," Atropos muttered, her hand dropping to her side – the hand holding the shears she used to cut the threads of mortal lives.

Lachesis shook her head. "It is done, sister. He has made his choice, and it is in the past. We can no longer do anything to change it."

Klotho said nothing, merely bowed her head over the thread that she was holding out for her two sisters. So he has done it, she thought. He had done what he had said he would do, and while she admired him for his ability to keep his word, the fact that he had _done_ so troubled her.

It was only a harmless bet, nothing more, when they had discussed it. But now it had grown into something larger, something that was beyond her control or that of her sisters.

"What shall we do now?" Lachesis asked then, her voice showing that she was a little nervous about this situation.

Atropos shook her head. "There is nothing that we _can_ do. It is all in Klotho's hands now, and when it comes to her, it is unchangeable. We cannot change the past."

"But what you foresaw did not come true," Klotho said quietly. "Does that not trouble you?"

Atropos chuckled derisively. "Oh, it certainly troubles me, just as much as it troubles you and Lachesis. But as I said, it is in your hands now, and we can do nothing about it." She frowned. "Free Choice has begun meddling in our affairs. Hera may think that everything has turned to her advantage, but she has forgotten that Free Choice serves no one except himself, and that makes him all the more dangerous."

"He serves no one," Klotho said softly, to herself. It was probably just a dream then – their conversation in the hall, the agreement that they had made. Perhaps it was not real.

And yet, in spite of her denial, she knew, in the core of her being, that it was real, and that it had happened. And now, because of a simple bet, many, many things were going to change.

But, as Atropos said, there is nothing that they could do. Free Choice had done what he had done, and because of that, he would now "run the show," as he so often termed it.

And the gods – even they, the Fates themselves, who were feared even by Zeus – would not be able to overturn his influence.

* * *

The frown on Zeus' face was clear when he found out what had happened. "So he chose you?"

Hera smiled at him, a proud, gloating smile as she turned the apple over in her hand. "Yes. You do not sound pleased – though that does not surprise me. You had expected him to choose Aphrodite, did you not?"

Zeus nodded. "Yes, I had expected that. The Fates had thought he would choose her. That would have meant he would have stolen Helen away from her new husband, Menelaus, which would have led to a war of so great a magnitude that our names and the names of those who fought in that war will live on. But that will no longer come to pass now."

Hera snorted derisively. "You ought to be pleased, mighty son of Kronos. I know of this war you speak of. If it had happened, then Troy, a city that you highly favor, would have fallen, its glory living on only in song and memory. But now that will not necessarily be the case, will it?"

"Oh, I am glad that Troy will not have to fall," Zeus said, "but that is not how it was supposed to be." He frowned. "There is something amiss here. It was as if some other entity had been with Paris, influencing him. But I know for certain there were no other gods, great or otherwise, who could have been there when he made his decision. Then why did he go against his destiny?"

"Because I helped him make his own decision."

Zeus looked up, as did Hera, startled that their inner sanctum upon Olympus could be broken. "Who speaks?" Zeus boomed, and in his voice was the roar of thunder.

There was soft laughter from the shadows, and a figure slowly stepped into the light of the chamber. It was a young man, with dancing green eyes and a head of dark brown hair, made up of recalcitrant curls. He was wearing very foreign clothing, and they gave him an air of carefree indifference that seemed to suit him quite well.

The young man bowed to Zeus and to Hera. "I am Free Choice. I was the one who helped Paris come to his decision."

Zeus narrowed his eyes when the young man said who he was. Now everything is made clear, he thought. He drew himself up to his fullest height. "So, it was you who influenced Paris to choose Hera instead of Aphrodite, as the Fates had decreed."

"I wouldn't say I _influenced_ him," Free Choice explained, looking up at Zeus with cheerful green eyes. "I only helped him to come to a decision. That is what I'm all about, after all: I just show people the possibilities, and it is up to them to choose which one they want. I never try to influence anything – just not in my nature, you see."

"Why did you come here?" Zeus turned to look at Hera, as she continued, "What drove you to come here and make these changes?"

Free Choice shrugged. "Does Free Choice need a reason to go anyplace, or do anything for a reason? Some people make choices because there's a reason behind it, and others choose things for no reason at all. In this case, I'd have to say that it was partially the latter that I did what I did…and partially because I made a bet with someone, and I wanted to win."

Zeus scowled. "A bet? You have done all of this, simply because you wished to win a _bet_?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? I'm Free Choice. I can do whatever I want."

This is getting more infuriating with every passing moment, Zeus thought, though he did his best not to let it show. He was familiar with the power that Free Choice exerted, and he really did not want to anger him. Inhaling deeply to rein his temper in, he asked: "How long will you be staying here?"

"Well, let me see…" Free Choice paused for a while, tapping his bottom lip thoughtfully, before he smiled, and replied: "I think I'll be hanging around for quite some time. Things are bound to get interesting now that Paris has made a different choice from what was expected. Besides, I still want to see that person I made the bet with."

Hera raised an eyebrow. "And just who did you make your bet with?"

Free Choice laughed, and he turned around, walking back into the shadows from which he had emerged. "Wouldn't you like to know?" And with that, he disappeared completely from view.

* * *

Free Choice left the halls of Olympus, chuckling to himself. The looks on their faces when I went in was _priceless,_ he thought, continuing to chuckle as he made his way to another part of the world. He was intent on going farther east, past the lands of Troy, which many in the Aegean considered to be the easternmost kingdom in the known world.

Of course, he thought, that's just _their_ assumption. He knew that there were other kingdoms farther to the east, that the world was round, even when most people thought it was flat. He had just hit on an idea, as he was going up to Olympus to announce his presence to Zeus, and he was intent on carrying out.

He grinned. This was going to be fun.

He stopped, having reached his destination. He settled himself on the pinnacle of an immense cliff face, and looked down upon the valley below him. The air was cool, almost cold, as twilight began to settle upon the valley below him. The bamboo groves clicked and whistled as the night breeze wended its way through, and the mist thickened slightly.

A few moments later several lights sprang up through the mist, tiny pinpoints of light that were screened by the haze. In spite of that, he could clearly see that a camp lay below him, consisting of several tents of varying sizes, and small bonfires that were lit outside of them.

He spied out the largest tent, which stood in the very center of the congregation, and he knew that the people he was looking for were inside. He closed his eyes, and willed himself into the tent. There was slight shift around him as time and space bent a little to his will, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing inside the tent itself.

It was a warm and well-lit area, smelling of fragrant and exotic incense. The glimmer of gold and the shimmer of silk in firelight caught his eye, and he moved forward, deeper into the tent.

A large group of armored men were gathered around a table, over which was spread a map that was marked with characters and lines. He could read the characters well enough, though this system of writing had long since disappeared and been replaced by another, simpler style.

"General Cao Bei, I do not think that that is a wise move!"

Free Choice looked up then to watch as a middle-aged man, dressed in red silk richly embroidered in gold thread, glared at a fellow who seemed to be around the same age as he, only the latter was dressed in a more somber blue and gray. "Councilor Gu Quan, I still think that this is the best plan that we have. For too long have we closeted ourselves up in our own borders. No, this time, we must seek outside help, even if it must come from those in the West."

The man named Gu Quan snorted. "Ask help from barbarians? They might sooner turn on us than on Dong Shao!"

This raised more arguments from the other people gathered around the table, and Free Choice had to chuckle in amusement as he watched them. He considered helping Cao Bei to agree with Gu Quan, but then another voice cut into the quarrels and disagreements.

"My Lords, I would feel much better if you stopped arguing so! We will not be able to decide anything if we go on like this."

Free Choice peered past the shoulders of the men around the table, and his smile became wider when he saw who was sitting in the place of honor at the very end. It was a young woman, though she did not look quite so young anymore because of the care and worry that were evident on her countenance. She could have been beautiful, were it not for the fact that stress and a hard life seemed to have robbed her of the glow and freshness that was part and parcel of beauty.

Yet there was an intense shimmer of intelligence and cunning in her eyes, as she gazed at the map spread before her, and that was all Free Choice needed to see to know that she would be the one he would help.

He rounded the table, and stood in the empty spot on the woman's right side. This is beyond the bounds of the bet, he thought, but it's just too much fun to stop now.

He wondered for a moment if Klotho would disagree with what he was about to do, but he shrugged the thought off. She won't mind, he thought.

Then he saw the woman lean forward, and he paid closer attention, knowing that his time to help her was about to come.

* * *

She eyed the map in front of her moodily, her gaze focused on the leftmost border of the paper. There the map stopped, for it showed only the lands that were under the Empire's jurisdiction. She knew well enough that there were other lands beyond that border, and that these nations often traded with the Empire, but none of her people had ever dared venture into these lands, willingly or otherwise. They didn't have to – the traders were the ones who came to _them_, not the other way around.

But now they were in such a situation that they _needed_ help from beyond their borders. She had heard rumors tell of great kingdoms far to the west, with ships and men enough to overrun the Empire and topple that demon incarnate Dong Shao from his place, but that was all there ever was – rumors, stories, and no _proof._ She needed proof that these mighty kingdoms did indeed exist, because if it were so, then she would go them for aid, even it if meant damning her pride as an Imperial Princess and General of her troops.

Lady Ren Ziyi, now more popularly known as Phoenix General Lang, once more felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. I swore an oath to my father on his deathbed, she thought. She knew that promises made on deathbeds were not so easily broken – especially if they were made to one who was both father and Emperor.

For the first time in a long time, she was completely at a loss about what to do. A part of her wanted to go with Cao Bei's suggestion and try to find the western kingdoms she had heard so much about, but at the same time, another part of her wanted to follow what Gu Quan said. She knew – and this was fact – that the West was a land of barbarians, who had none of the subtlety and elegance of her own people. She had heard that they were a violent lot, that they knew nothing but war and bloodshed, and had no culture to speak of.

But I have to fight, she thought, resisting the urge to bow her head and bury it in her hands. Dong Shao was holding her younger brother Ren Yi captive. Ren Yi was supposedly the Emperor at the moment, but in truth he was nothing more than a puppet, forced to serve Dong Shao. She had to do all she could to save her brother, and in the process, save the Empire from a ruthless and coldhearted dictator.

What was she supposed to do?

She raised her head to look upon her fellow generals – all of them good and trustworthy men, for they respected her not only as a princess of the Empire, but also as a warrior and strategist.

Her voice was clear and unwavering. "I have made my decision."

* * *

Free Choice smiled as he left the tent, rising through the air once more to stand upon the sharp crags that overlooked the valley.

"Very interesting indeed," he murmured. He headed back towards the west. It was time to pay Klotho a visit.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The bet that was discussed here – the one between Klotho and Free Choice – is discussed more fully in Noelle Pico's _Beyond the Phantasm of Humanity_. It also includes the relationship that these two have.


	2. Chapter One: Threats in Dreams

**Chapter One: Threats in Dreams**

Paris stared up at the ceiling of his chambers, Oenone's body comfortably warm beside him. He closed his eyes momentarily, rescuing the quickly scattering vestiges of the dream he had just moments ago.

He dreamt that Iris had come to him, and that she was bringing a message to him from Hera. Iris told him that he was to set out on a long journey to the east as soon as he could arrange it, but that he should do this alone, and that no one should accompany him.

_"Your journey will take you many days to accomplish, but at the end, you will find a great reward," _Iris had told him in his dream

_"But what will I find at the end? What will be my reward?"_ Paris had asked. He was unwilling to go on such a journey, alone at that, if the risk was not worth taking. 

_"That is not for me to speak of, but for you to find."_

And then Iris had departed, and he then saw more things. He saw beautiful green valleys the likes of which he had not seen anywhere near Troy, and mountains that seemed to soar higher than Mount Ida, nay, higher than Olympus itself, for the peaks disappeared into the mist and mounted into the heavens, seemingly beyond the realms of the gods. He saw mighty rivers and glassy lakes, and forests with voices like many reed flutes. 

He caught the glint of gold, and the shimmer of some sort of fabric, along with the soft luster of a gemstone he did not recognize. He saw palaces and temples the likes of which he had never seen before, and heard the deep clarion sound of many bells being rung. 

He also saw, though briefly, rocks sprayed with blood, the hot shimmer of the air as when a ferocious fire razes the land, and the spark of sword blades in the dying, bloodied light of the setting sun. 

And then he awoke.

He could not sleep after that. He did not think any sane person would be able to sleep after seeing such things in their dreams. He believed that he had just caught a glimpse of the land that he was supposed to journey to. It was a land that had beauty and wonders beyond compare, but, remembering the last part of his dream, it was a realm fraught with many dangers. 

Do I even wish to go on this journey, he wondered to himself. He opened his eyes, and gazed upon Oenone's head, her beautiful hair cascading down from her scalp in waves silvered by the moonlight, spilling across his chest and over the pillows and sheets. He smiled, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer to him. Who would want to leave such peace, such love, behind?

I will not go on that journey, he thought resolutely as he closed his eyes once more. Hera could keep her reward; he did not need it. He had all that he needed with him, and he was content.

* * *

_He walked down a hallway lined with many pillars; each one made of white marble and polished to such a lustrous sheen that he doubted a fly could have landed on the surface without sliding off._

_He did not know how long he had been walking, and he did not know why he was doing so. He wanted to stop, wanted to keep his feet from moving, but he was unable to do so. It was as if another mind forced him to move forward, move onward, towards the very end of the corridor._

_The soft light of fires soon came within his sight. The tiny points of light slowly increased in brightness the closer he came until, at last, they became hot infernos blazing in immense braziers. The braziers themselves stood around an empty throne._

_It was only then that he realized he once more had free reign over his body. He looked around, trying to see past the ring of light cast by the braziers, but his eyes could not pierce the darkness beyond. He turned his focus to the throne instead, and was surprised to find that there were things lying on it._

_A tall spear stood next to the backrest of the throne, its tip rising slightly higher than the backrest itself. A shield rested against the side of the throne, embossed with many intricate designs in gold. A sword sheathed in its scabbard rested on the seat of the throne itself, along with a crown of gold._

_"Those are the accoutrements of he who will be master of Greece and Asia."_

_He jumped, and turned around to the source of the voice. "Who is that?"_

_A shape materialized from the shadows. It was a woman, clad in fabrics fit for a queen, with a golden crown resembling battlements perched on her head. Her eyes glinted as she smiled. "Greetings, Prince of Troy. How fare your dreams?"_

_Paris took a step backwards, the back of his legs coming into contact with the cold stone of the throne. "Hera!"_

_The goddess tilted her head back slightly in acknowledgement before she started walking towards him. Paris stepped aside, thinking that she was moving towards him, but she did not. Instead, she moved towards the throne, picking up the sword and drawing it out of its sheath. _

_"This is a mighty weapon," she murmured, and Paris watched as the edge glimmered as if edged with white-hot light. Hera lifted her gaze to Paris. "It could have been yours."_

_Paris blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"_

_Hera shrugged as she sheathed the sword again, and placed it back where she had picked it up. "Had you not decided to give up and remain in Troy, you could have sat upon this throne, worn this sword at your waist, and had this crown upon your head._

_"Many, many years from now, a man who shares your name – Alexandros – will conquer all of Greece, and come close to ruling Asia as well. He will be a foreigner, like you, and he will sweep the Greek cities aside. One by one, they will fall to him. Athens and Sparta, once so proud and secure in their own strength, will be nothing to him, and he will unite the divided Greek cities under his rule._

_"After that, he will go on a great campaign that will lead him east, into lands that none during his time or before ever dreamed existed." Her lips tilted in a smile as she pinned Paris with her gaze. "But why wait for a namesake to claim what could just as easily be yours?"_

_Paris understood then what she was talking about. He straightened his stance, trying to look the goddess in the eye so she could see his resolve. "I do not wish to be further involved in this. I am happy with what I have now. You may keep your reward, for I have no need of it."_

_Hera's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You would turn down the reward of a goddess?" Her voice was low and cold, chilling Paris to the bone._

_When he gave her no reply, she strode up to him, and Paris felt himself shrinking the closer she came to him. She might not have been any taller than he, but her presence was overwhelming. Now, standing in such close proximity to her, he felt as if he were a child again, faced with his mother's wrath._

_"The blessings of the gods are not so easily returned once they have been given, Paris of Troy," she muttered. She smiled then – a smile that curdled his blood. "And remember this: the gods can take away just as easily as they can give. I have given you fortune, and a chance to do more. Just as easily as I gave you those things, I can take away everything that you now have, and more besides. I can break you and reduce you to nothing more than a speck of existence, a blot on the face of the earth."_

_Paris' heart started beating wildly at the thought of the threat. She could – and would – take away everything. She could easily give success to any one of Troy's rivals, and they would bring Troy to its knees. She could take away his newfound family, Oenone, everything._

_Fear tightened its hold on his throat and limbs. He could not afford to lose everything he had, everything that he held precious to him._

_Hera, perhaps sensing his fear and seeing his thoughts, smiled, and stepped back. "Remember my words, Prince of Troy," she murmured, and though her voice was soft, her words had lost none of their coldness. "Do not take the rewards of the gods lightly, or you may find yourself with nothing at all."_

* * *

"No, no, leave them alone, I beg you, please…"

Oenone stared down at her husband's face; worry hanging like a cloud over her features. His dreams were troubling him, and he could not break away from them.

"Paris?" She whispered his name, calling to him, hoping that her voice would be like a lure that would lead him out of his nightmare and back into the waking world. "Paris, my love, wake up."

He stopped muttering, and his body relaxed, the tension in his body slackening little by little. Oenone lifted her hand to his face, and tenderly smoothed away the frown that contorted his beautiful face. She leaned closer to his ear, and whispered, "Wake up, my love. Wake up and leave your dark dreams behind."

Paris' lips parted in a soft sigh then, and in moments his eyes fluttered open. At first they seemed unfocused, distant, as if he could not see her, but he blinked, and his gaze fixed upon her face. "Oenone?"

She smiled at her husband. "You were having a bad dream, my love," she told him gently, never ceasing in her soothing caresses. "You were talking in your sleep, and I was afraid."

"A dream…" Paris inhaled, and sighed. "Yes, a dream, but not a bad one."

"If it was not bad, then what was it?"

"It was a message – or rather, a warning."

Now Oenone was certain something was wrong. She pushed herself up so that she was leaning on her elbows, and looking down on her husband's face. "Paris, please, you must-"

The smile on Paris' face – so sad, and so heartbreaking – made her tongue still in her mouth. He reached up, and gently stroked her face with his hand. "I must go on a journey, my love. It will be a long one, and will take me to distant lands – and far away from you. But I must do it, or else risk losing everything that I hold precious to me. I do not want to lose you."

Oenone was confused. He had never spoken of having to go on a journey before. "I do not understand…"

Paris sat up, and leaned forward, kissing her gently, lingeringly, on the mouth. And she felt fear race down her spine when she tasted the hint of something bittersweet upon his lips. Whatever he had to do, it could possibly take him away from her – forever.

"You must forgive me, then, for I cannot tell you." Paris' voice was low with regret and shame. "I do not wish you to be too involved in this. What the gods ask me to do, I must do alone."

Fear once more stabbed its cruel, remorseless blade into Oenone's heart. "So it was a message from the gods," she whispered, unable to speak any louder than that. Her hands tightened their hold on the sheet, her knuckles going white. "What sin have I committed against them that they would take you away from me?"

Paris shook his head fiercely. "You have done nothing, Oenone. You have not sinned against the gods. It was I who has sinned against them, for refusing to accept what they would have given me. And now, I have no choice but to accept their 'gift,' if it may be called that."

"Why accept it, then? If you do not desire it, why are you being forced to take it?"

"Because, just as the gods can easily give what we desire, they can take away everything that we hold dear."

Oenone bowed her head, and was unable to stop the tears that pearled at the corners of her eyes and dropped onto her clenched hands, sparkling like sea spray in the morning light. "I do not want to lose you."

Paris reached out, and held her in a warm, loving embrace. Oenone tried to brand the memory of this moment in her mind – for it could very well be the last one she had with him.

"I will come back," he told her, his voice resolute and determined. "I promise."

And yet Oenone's heart was troubled, for what did mortal promises mean in the face of the gods?

The sun shone warm on Troy that day, but it did not touch the cold that settled on Oenone's heart.

* * *

Hera leaned back against the backrest of her couch, a smug smile on her face. Iris had not gotten her point across to Paris, so she decided that it would be better if she talked to him directly.

"Hmmm, blackmail. You're a real dangerous woman when you put your mind to it, you know that?"

Hera looked up quickly upon hearing the voice, and glared when she saw who had spoken. "What are you doing here?"

Free Choice wrinkled his nose slightly, though his eyes twinkled with humor. "Do you want me to tell you everything again?"

Hera scowled. It is a pity that I cannot do anything to him, she thought. She would thoroughly enjoy making him suffer.

Nevertheless she leaned back, eyeing him darkly. "I am surprised you were not present when Paris made his decision. I had assumed that you would be there, ready to thwart my plans."

"I just thought that it would be more fun if I left well enough alone this time," Free Choice replied as he picked up an apple from a nearby platter of fruit, and bit into it. "You do realize where this story is going to go now, right?"

"I do."

"And you do know the consequences?"

Hera nodded stiffly. She had not liked the consequences when Zeus told her, but she would have to put up with them.

Free Choice grinned. "Good. A game plays so much better when everyone knows the rules." With that, he turned around, and walked away, leaving a seething Hera behind.


	3. Chapter Two: The Last Straw

**Chapter Two: The Last Straw**

Cao Bei tried to keep as still as possible, to ensure that his armor did not make any sound. In spite of the fact that his armor was ingeniously padded with layers of silk, it was still no safeguard against clinking and clanking. Also, the bronze had been allowed to accumulate a green patina. While this was normally frowned upon, he had to admit that the greenish layer over the metal helped to keep him invisible from even very keen eyes. And right now, silence and invisibility were of the utmost importance.

He turned his head very slightly, afraid that someone would hear the creaking of his neck – even though he knew that, in these ancient woods, it was very easy to mistake it for the creaking of the aged limbs of the trees. Just out of the corner of his eye, he could see her: her body perfectly still, like the statue of a prowling tiger, yet there was a sense of alertness about her that reminded him of a coiled snake, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He smiled slightly; making sure that his teeth did not appear between his lips. _"No movement, no sound, and no indication of our position." _Those were the words that had been drilled into his head, and the heads of all the other commanders, before they had started this mission.

The moon was full that night, and while it worked to their advantage, it could work to their disadvantage as well.

The Imperial Princess has learned her lessons well, he thought.

He had known Ren Ziyi since she was a child. He was a soldier then, one of the elite few who were chosen to guard the grounds of the Imperial Palace. When the Princess was first presented to the world and recognized as the child of the Emperor when she was three years old, he could hardly have imagined that one day, he would be teaching her the martial arts; that one day, he would help her run away to the temple on Mount Song where she furthered her training in the martial arts; and that one day, he would be helping her lead a small but extremely loyal army against the Imperial forces commanded by the usurper Dong Shao.

She was an extraordinary woman, the complete antithesis of what an Imperial Princess should be. Not for her were the perfumed and decadent halls of the palace; she preferred the freedom of wide, open spaces, and the cool, sweet tang of mountain air in the back of her throat. She gave up a world of luxury and pleasure for a harder, simpler one, one that was slowly eating away her youth and her beauty – all because she had promised to her father that she would protect the Empire to the best of her abilities.

He bowed his head. Even now, just thinking about it, he felt humbled by such a display of filial loyalty and love of country. It was already considered admirably extraordinary for a man to have such qualities, but a woman?

He mentally shook his head, remembering all the sayings and adages that he had been told since he was a boy. It was said that Woman was a weak, indecisive, flighty race, and it was because of this fact that Man, being the rational half, had to take over and guide Woman.

Ren Ziyi had just proven that wrong, and so many other things besides. While most men would balk at being commanded by a female, Cao Bei was proud, and extremely honored, to be marching under her banner.

And right now, she was using her skills to their best advantage. Thanks to the intricate network of spies and informants that she had built up over the years, they had learned that a supply train from the capital was heading towards one of the outlying towns where a sizeable contingent of Dong Shao's troops was based. While they were not running low on supplies just then, it was important to sabotage the supply trains of their opponent. As the old tenet said: an opponent that lacks food, water and sleep is an opponent that is half-defeated.

Just then, the sound of hooves walking over soft earth and dead leaves reached his ears, and he immediately focused on the path that lay just below him. Just like the spies had told them, the caravan of wagons, peasants and armed men started plodding a slow path in front of them, completely unaware of their presence. The gorge they were passing through was narrow and long, and their baggage was heavy and large. It would not be hard for them to close up the gap on either end of the gorge and surround the caravan.

A messenger appeared at his side then, nearly startling him out of his wits. It was a young boy, no older than ten or nine, with nimble limbs, silent feet, and an agile body, making him perfect as a courier between the small groups that were stationed all around the gorge, invisible in the shadow cast by the trunks of the trees. He gazed at Cao Bei, and the general knew what the message was even before he read the small strip of silk that the boy had given to him.

He turned his head more fully towards Ren Ziyi, who looked back at him with a questioning gaze. No words were spoken between the two of them, but they did not need words to communicate with each other. They more or less knew how the other thought, much in the same way that a teacher can know the thoughts of his best student, and vice-versa.

Ren Ziyi nodded, and then turned back to the road at the bottom of the gorge, while the sound of nickering horses and rumbling wheels echoed up to them. She lifted a whistle to her lips, and an owl quietly hooted into the night.

Cao Bei counted three heartbeats, and then the night air was filled with whispering doom as arrows descended on the supply train, bows singing a high-pitched dirge all around him.

Horses screamed and oxen bellowed as chaos exploded all around them. The peasants screamed and shouted in pain or in fear as they fell facedown on the ground, praying to the gods that they would survive. The soldiers, however, were not as lucky, as one by one, arrows knocked them off their horses as they whirled around, bewildered, trying to find the source of the arrows that were slowly taking them down. Some tried to ride back to the entrance of the gorge, and others rode ahead to try to make an escape, but they only met with a thick wall of spears and arrows.

The battle was over in less time than it took for Cao Bei to descend to the bottom of the gorge. Some of the horses and oxen were dead, but a good number of them were still alive, albeit scratched and battered from the rain of arrows. The peasants, too, were still alive, though many were injured – mostly scratches where they had been grazed by arrows. Still, some who had not been as quick as their other companions had not been as fortunate: a few had shafts sticking out of their shoulders, arms, or legs – nothing too deadly, but still quite painful.

The military escort, however, was not as lucky. Almost all members were dead, but the few who were still breathing were so far gone that it was better to kill them with a quick sword swipe so as not to prolong their suffering.

Cao Bei lifted the edge of the cloth covering that was thrown over one of the carts, and caught a glimpse of large clay jars. Lifting the cover off one of the jars, he peered in, and smiled when rice grains gleamed like tiny pearls in the silver moonlight. But Cao Bei knew that right now, rice was more valuable than even pearls or jade.

Ren Ziyi came up beside him, and nudged him gently out of the way so that she could have a look. Cao Bei did as she bade him, and smiled at her as she peered into the jar. "You were right," he said. "These supplies could last the Usurper's troops for months."

Ren Ziyi's face remained impassive. "Well then, it is good that they are ours and no longer his," she said. "If we starve them long enough, they will turn on him, and we will have fought him without even lifting a finger."

"Your servant bows to your superior intelligence."

Now a smile broke on Ren Ziyi's face, and she shoved Cao Bei teasingly in response. "My intelligence is superior to no one. I am merely attentive and very lucky."

Cao Bei shook his head. "This had nothing to do with luck." He waved his hand to the caravan. "The gods are kind to you, Ren Ziyi. You have Heaven's hand upon you shoulder, guiding you and protecting you. When you have Heaven's blessing, how long can Dong Shao stand against you?"

It never ceased to amaze him how Ren Ziyi's face could change to reflect her emotion. She frowned, and her eyes darkened with a familiar shadow, one that seemed to take possession of her more and more often lately. "If the gods are indeed on my side, how come Dong Shao has been able to withstand me for so long? It has been nearly five years now, Cao Bei – five years since we began this campaign against him. If Heaven is indeed on my side, why hasn't he fallen yet?"

Cao Bei did not respond, knowing that she did not expect him to answer those questions. He had tried, long ago, but he had stopped answering, knowing that there were no answers to those questions.

One of the officers of their troop approached them then, bowing respectfully when he was close enough. "Pardon my intrusion, General, but what shall we do with the peasants?"

Cao Bei watched as an expression that he had labeled "the Mask" settled upon Ren Ziyi's face, and she was no longer Ren Ziyi, but General Lang, a leader respected both as a warrior and as a tactician. "I will deal with them myself," she told the officer, who bowed once more and headed to the rear of the gorge.

After standing still for a few moments, Ren Ziyi sighed, and pulled a red silk scarf over her face. While Cao Bei had not approved of this before, he had to admit that Ren Ziyi was right when she proposed the idea: the mask gave her a sense of mystery that would inspire awe and fear in those she encountered. Those emotions worked very well for them – both when fighting against enemy troops and when making allies.

With her face covered, Ren Ziyi made her way to where the peasants were lined up. Cao Bei was glad to note that the soldiers had followed Ren Ziyi's policy regarding peasants who were found working in Dong Shao's army: they were to be treated humanely, given food and drink enough to last them for a journey to the nearest town, and if any were injured, those injuries were to be treated to the best of their abilities and as time permitted them.

Cao Bei had to admit, it was a very clever tactic on Ren Ziyi's part. Thanks to her magnanimous treatment of the peasant folk, she had won the respect and adoration of the people – an important factor if she was to win this war against Dong Shao. Even if she had Heaven's approval, it would not matter much to the people if they did not think she was treating them well enough to deserve Heaven's blessing.

And, as he and Ren Ziyi well knew, the leap to be made from unhappy farmer to bloodthirsty rebel was not a very large one at all.

A murmur rose over the peasants when Ren Ziyi strode into their line of sight, and then they prostrated themselves on the ground, their faces against the earth in respect.

"Rise," Ren Ziyi said, waving her hand smoothly. "You have no need to bow to me. Someday, perhaps, you will, but not now. There is no time."

The peasants got back to their knees, though Cao Bei noticed that they kept their gaze firmly fixed on the tips of his and Ren Ziyi's boots. There was an unspoken law that stated an inferior could not look his or her superior in the eye. It was very bad form, and spoke of bad breeding.

The oldest of the peasants – a man with a stooped posture, wrinkled skin, and a long white beard – bowed once more before he spoke. "Great General, we are eternally grateful that you have spared us. We have heard stories of your kindness, and we are very happy that the stories are true."

Though Cao Bei could not see it, he sensed the small smile that appeared on Ren Ziyi's face. "That does not matter now," she said, and her voice took on an official tone. "My soldiers will treat you as best as time will allow. If any of you are injured, I suggest you speak up now, because we only have so much time to stay here before we must move on. We will give you some food to last you on your journey to the next town. From there, you will be on your own."

Murmurs of gratitude and thanksgiving went up amongst the peasants, but Ren Ziyi did not stay long enough to hear all of them. She immediately turned around, and walked away.

"Cao Bei," she murmured, "how much food do you think the peasants will need?"

Cao Bei looked over his shoulder, quickly calculated the amount in his mind, and relayed the information to Ren Ziyi.

The young woman nodded, her eyes thoughtful in the dim light. "I see. Make sure that they are given that, and perhaps a little more. We do not need all of these supplies immediately, and some of their injuries are grave. Make sure that they take two of the wagons with them, and a few of the oxen."

"And what of the horses?"

"Those we take with us. Give them one or two, but no more than that, and keep the better ones. We need the horses more than they do."

Cao Bei nodded. "As you wish."

* * *

She waited until she had entered her tent before she sighed, allowing her shoulders to sag underneath the weight of her armor. She removed the silk scarf from her face, and pulled the helmet off her head, tossing both carelessly aside. She collapsed into a nearby chair, surprised at how tired she was feeling at the moment.

She should not have felt so weary. Tonight had been a routine ambush – everything had turned out as she had expected. And yet, tonight it felt as if the gods had decided to lay the cares of the world on her shoulders.

Not so much the cares of the world as the fate of a dynasty and the Empire, she thought with a tired smirk. There were times like these when she wished that she had not sworn that oath to her father, that she had not promised him that she would protect the Empire at whatever cost. There were times when she wished that she were living a quiet life in the palace, away from the cares of the world.

She shook her head then, remembering that she had wished this life upon herself. She had wished the life of a warrior, a life of excitement and ever-changing circumstances. In her childhood her pride had rebelled against the idea of being locked up in the women's quarters, and she chose this path, even if she had to run away from home to do it.

But this was the consequence of her choice: that she be allowed no moment to rest, no moment to simply stop and enjoy the pleasures of life – and of love.

She closed her eyes, and an image flashed briefly in her mind: warm, dark brown eyes, a cheerful smile, and sunlight dappling the grass underneath the peach trees in full bloom.

She shook her head violently, clearing the image from her mind. It had been a long time ago, in a place that she had not seen for many, many years. She was a different woman now, and she had different things to think about – things that were more important than him.

The Empire must come first – even before herself.

She stood up, and walked slowly to the nearby table. A map of the Empire lay spread out upon it, and everything was clearly marked: towns, villages, rivers, plains, mountains – everything that was considered a part of the Empire.

But there was something missing, and those were the lands far to the west of the Empire. She carefully placed a finger on the leftmost edge of the map, fingering the silk, which was beginning to fray somewhat from constant use. There had to be something that lay beyond the border of the map – after all, there were tales and legends enough about the lands in the West to indicate that there were people there.

She believed that all stories had some grain of truth in them, no matter how fantastical or impossible the tale. It was simply a matter of sifting through the words, of separating fancy from reality. She had become quite clever at it; something she had learned out of necessity, to be able to tell friends and allies from foes and enemies.

And she began to employ such logic now. The tales and legends she kept on hearing about the lands in the west were so many, that the existence of such lands had to be true. If that were the case, then there had to be people living there. And she needed those people now to help her in her battles. She would not be able to win against Dong Shao otherwise.

What was she to do? She could not risk losing men on what could possibly be a fruitless venture. What if the stories were indeed just that: stories, and nothing more? What if they went as far west as they could, only to be greeted by an ocean with no horizon in sight? What if, as some claimed, there was nothing there except the edge of the world?

What then?

She then remembered the words of Ng Mu, the Shaolin nun who had been her mentor while she was studying at Mount Song: _"There is something to be lost in trying, but it is nothing when compared to the loss if you do not try at all."_

Was that really the case here? If she went on this venture, she lost time and supplies – both of which were very important to their cause. She could not waste them on something that could potentially end in failure.

But, she realized, she did not have much of a choice. Unless her side gained the strength it needed, the deadlock between her troops and Dong Shao's forces would continue, and it would only bring more suffering to the people of the Empire.

"My Lady?"

She did not turn around, recognizing the voice that spoke to her. "I am at a loss, Cao Bei," she murmured. "I know that we need the strength of those in the west to fight against Dong Shao, but…what if we fail? What if we find out there is nothing? We would have lost time, and maybe much more, to Dong Shao. He could make all our hard work crumble to dust in the span of a night."

Cao Bei did not reply, and all she could hear was the sound of his footsteps against the leather flooring of the tent, and the soft whisper of silk against his skin. She did not look up even when he pulled up one of the chairs and took the place next to her.

It was only when he was comfortably seated that Cao Bei spoke. "But what does your heart tell you, My Lady? What does your conscience dictate?"

"My conscience dictates that I go forth into the west and seek aid from whoever could be there," she answered softly. "The promise I made to my father impels me to do this. But I remember the lives that could be lost, both on the journey and back here, and I wonder whether it is worth it or not."

"Ah." Cao Bei was silent for a moment, but at length, he said, "My Lady, you must remember that all those who have joined your troops would be glad to die for you."

She turned to him, and his face remained calm though her temper flared to life in her eyes, on her face, and in her words. "Do you think that I would willingly allow innocent people to go to their deaths for what could be nothing? No, I will not have it! I will not let faultless people sacrifice themselves for something that could be nothing!"

"You do not understand my words," Cao Bei replied, his voice as serene as ever – a balm to soothe her fire. "To we who follow you, no venture would be worthless, so long as you deem it important. And even we, who see your affairs from the outside, find that a sojourn to the west is important." He smiled slightly. "You seem to have forgotten that you are the daughter of the Emperor, and are exalted as the Phoenix to your brother's Dragon – the Phoenix who wields the Sword of the Empire when the Dragon cannot. You have lived far too long amongst us humble mortals."

She had to smile at his words. "But living with you 'humble mortals,' as you call yourselves, has taught me more about my people and the Empire than a life in the Palace ever could. I understand the peasants more, and I know that, although I am not suited to sit upon the throne and guide the Empire with my own hand, I could guide my brother's, and teach him, until the time comes that he may rule the Empire with wisdom and good judgment. With or without me…that is not important."

"A noble aspiration indeed, My Lady. But you will not be able to regain the throne from the Usurper unless you seek for aid." Cao Bei's face turned serious. "If you will permit me to speak freely, My Lady, I strongly advise you to go the West. If you are worried about Dong Shao wreaking havoc and destroying what we have built, then leave a majority of your troops here, and take only a small contingent with you on your journey. That way, you will have a sizeable delegation to protect you, while at the same time, your power here will remain safe."

Ren Ziyi nodded, her thoughts coming to her swiftly now. "Yes, yes of course," she murmured quietly as she pressed the back of her right index finger to her lips – a gesture that she often did when she was thinking fast. "I could take a small group with me, with gifts, perhaps, and then we could be on our way. We would be able to make swift progress, and our strength here would not be depleted."

Cao Bei smiled in agreement. "As I was thinking, My Lady."

Ren Ziyi's gaze was focused firmly on the map on the table in front of her. She stared at the leftmost edge with renewed hope. The journey was starting to sound more and more like an enjoyable adventure than a burden to her. If she could find those fabled kingdoms in the west, if she could ask for their aid, the Empire would be secure.

And while her heart ached for the lives that could be sacrificed – that would have to be sacrificed – along the way, she knew, in her very depths of her soul, that the would not have died in vain.

Her hand fisted on the tabletop. No, she thought. She would make sure that they did not die in vain.

She turned around, and looked at Cao Bei, who was now standing up, obviously awaiting the orders she was going to give him. "Tomorrow I will call a meeting," she said, "and I will review the troops and the supplies that we have at our disposal. This journey is important. I do not want it to be any less than successful."


End file.
